


these are ties that bind

by etherealanything



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s03e04 Children of the Dark, Fake Marriage, Fake dating real family, Gen, Kid Fic, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Prentiss, Marriage of Convenience, Platonic Relationships, Queerminal Minds, Trans Hotch, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23512633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherealanything/pseuds/etherealanything
Summary: canon divergence from season 3, episode 4: "children of the dark"Emily and Hotch must pretend to be in a long-term relationship in order to foster Carrie. Shenanigans and serious conversations alike ensue.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner & Emily Prentiss
Comments: 36
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> criminal minds isn't mine; if it were, we would have canon lgbtq characters  
> title kinda from "you will still be mine" from waitress but that song is creepy af and not the vibe of this story at all  
> unbeta'd - constructive critique is welcomed!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily and Hotch have a conversation

Emily Prentiss stood in front of the hotel door, hand raised, wondering if she was making the biggest mistake of her life. All her self-preservation instincts, built up from a lifetime of looking over her shoulder, told her it would be better for all parties if she just walked away. But a small voice in the back of her head disagreed.  _ There is someone who needs you, _ it said.  _ Someone who you are not too late to save. _ That voice had gotten her into this situation, and it was determined to see it through.

She knocked once, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent hallway. When Hotch opened the door, he looked as if he rather expected to see someone else. It was late, but Reid and Morgan were still off flirting with women at a club somewhere. Or, probably more likely, Morgan was flirting while Reid sat alone at the bar. Emily found she could never begrudge either of them the comfort of a post-case routine, no matter how strange.

Hotch was wearing his pajamas, which consisted of plain grey sweatpants and a well-worn GW Law shirt. His outfit had the unsettling effect of reminding Emily that she and him were, in fact, almost the same age. He often seemed much more world-weary than his thirty-some years suggested, although she supposed it was her who had actually seen more of the world. He was holding a book in one hand and seemed poised to lecture Reid for forgetting his keycard again. Upon seeing Emily, the expression on his face slid from irritation into confusion.

“Prentiss?” he asked. The  _ “what do you want?” _ went unsaid.

“Sir, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you about something.” Hotch opened the door wider and motioned her inside. He sat down on one of the beds while Emily leaned uncomfortably on the desk and surveyed the room. What she assumed was Hotch’s side of the room was nothing short of meticulous, although Spencer, to his credit, had managed to keep his chaos contained to a two by four area at the foot of his bed.

Acutely aware of the importance of her next few sentences, she began. “Carrie Ortiz, the girl from the case, has an aunt and uncle in Phoenix, but they’re not able to care for her. She doesn’t have anyone else and especially after seeing what the foster system can do to kids, I don’t know if…” No, this wasn’t the way to do it. She was dancing around her point and both she and Hotch knew it. Time to regroup. 

“Carrie came to me and asked if I would be willing to take her in for the time being.” Emily’s knee-jerk reaction had been no, but remembering what JJ told her earlier had given her pause. She had never been one of those children who dream of becoming a parent, not until it was no longer a dream. In the ensuing fallout, she became even more convinced that parenting was not for her. But Carrie wasn’t a helpless child. She was a young woman who had experienced a traumatic event and was voluntarily asking Emily to become her guardian. And so Emily found herself unable to say no.

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her that I would have to think about it but that I didn’t have the power to make that decision myself.” It was the truth. Emily knew that Hotch didn’t tolerate lying, especially not to victims. To give false hope to someone whose family had just been ripped away would be unspeakably cruel.

“Prentiss, with all due respect, I’m not sure why we’re having this conversation. I know you don’t need to be reminded of the dangers of our job, but I firmly believe that you will make the right decision.” Truthfully, it had taken Emily several hours to fully process Carrie’s request and several more before she could think rationally enough to decide. But she had made up her mind. If only that made it a reality.

Emily took a deep breath. For all the courage it had taken to get this far, the hardest part had yet to come. “I talked to Carrie’s social worker and she said that in the absence of family, they usually try to place in-area, but that given Carrie’s explicit request, she might be able to make an exception. However…” She trailed off. Maybe this was a mistake. It wasn’t too late to back out.

“However?” Hotch prompted. His tone was steady, and Emily forced herself to make eye contact. His face had smoothed itself into a neutral expression, which Emily took as a positive sign as she gathered her resolve.

“They don’t place children with single parents. No exceptions.”  _ And definitely not gay couples, _ she mentally amended.

“I see,” he said. His face wrinkled in a way that told Emily he hadn’t quite figured out where she was going. “That’s a pity. Although, that still doesn’t solve the mystery of why you’re in my hotel room. I may be your boss, but even I don’t have sway over the foster care system of Denver.”

“Well… I sort of told Carrie’s caseworker that I would have to consult my husband.” She had run out of the room immediately after, wondering what on earth had just possessed her. She was a lesbian, for God's sake! There was no husband in her future. What scared her even more was realizing that she didn’t regret it. She wanted this for Carrie (and for herself, if she was being honest) and she was willing to do whatever it took, even if it meant hatching a hare-brained scheme like the one she currently found herself ensnared in.

Hotch raised his eyebrows at her. She suspected the pieces were starting to come together for him. “And you’re here to ask me to marry you?” 

He was chuckling now, almost in disbelief. Although she half-expected to become defensive, Emily instead found herself wanting to crack a grin at the pure absurdity of the situation.

“Well, given my lack of a personal life, it was one of our coworkers or a random man on the street.” The last time she had been on a date was months ago. Liv had been nice, but Emily could tell she wanted more than a casual relationship. So that particular alley was a bust, notwithstanding the fact that her gender preference would disqualify any actual partner.

“Why me?” Hotch asked, bringing her out of her thoughts. His tone turned serious again. “I don’t exactly have the best track record with parenthood.” 

His gaze was fixed at a blank spot on the wall above her head, and Emily imagined he was mentally scrolling through his worst hits as a constantly-working husband and father.

“Hotch, you’re the only man on this team with any parenting expertise.” Upon giving the decision some thought, Emily had realized that not only was Hotch the best choice, he was the only choice. She voiced her thought process to reassure him. “Morgan is the perpetual bachelor, Reid would eat cereal for every meal if we let him, and Rossi is old enough to be my father.”

“While I’m certainly flattered to have been picked by process of elimination, that doesn’t make this a good idea.” He was right. In fact, it was a bad idea for more reasons than Emily could count, chiefly that she and Hotch had only recently reached any sort of lasting truce; any person who wasn’t convinced of the validity of their relationship could turn them in and ruin the whole scheme.

“Sir, I recognize the ridiculousness of the situation, and if you say no I will never mention this conversation again, but I really believe that we have the chance to make someone’s life better. Our job is about always making wrong things right, giving people peace, but never more than that. Never making a good thing on its own.” Hotch looked as surprised as Emily felt at her impassioned speech. At some point, she had begun gesticulating, movements becoming more frantic as the volume of her voice rose. 

“We’ve seen how the foster system changes kids,” she continued, suddenly feeling bold. “I don’t need Reid to quote statistics to know it’s usually not for the better. Carrie has so much potential and I don’t want to think her hopes were dashed because of a choice I made.”  _ I see myself in her _ , Emily didn’t say.  _ Young and hopeful and ready to take on the world. _

They sat in silence as Hotch mulled her words over. Emily felt confident that no matter his decision, she had given it her all. It felt unnerving to have to place a decision this important in the hands of a man she had betrayed, but Emily knew he would put aside any feelings, positive or negative, that he might have for her. It was one of the things she admired most about Hotch; if he respected you, he valued your contributions, whether you were certified genius Spencer Reid or a local law enforcement officer assisting the team. With that conviction in mind, Emily did her best to steel herself for his decision as Hotch began to speak. 

“Let’s pretend I said yes. What are we going to tell the team, not to mention Jack and my… Haley?” Emily pretended to ignore the way he choked on Haley’s name. It was the least she owed him. Still, she felt hope bubbling in her chest at the realization that he was actually considering it.

“I think we should tell the team as little as possible. I don’t doubt that they’ll figure out something is different, but we both know Reid and Garcia can’t lie to save their lives. It’ll be better to keep them in the dark for as long as possible.” Hotch nodded and Emily felt some of the tension leave her body. “As for Jack and Haley, you know them best, so I’ll defer to you.”

“We’ll have to convince them we’re really in a relationship,” he responded without pause. “Haley and I currently have equal custody, and I won’t do anything to jeopardize that.”

“Deal.” She briefly fought the ridiculous urge to offer him a handshake. “Although I am warning you that I’m not sure how long this arrangement will have to last.”

“Well, as you pointed out, I’m not exactly a youthful bachelor.” True to his words, Emily’s brain faltered when asked to conjure up an image of Hotch as a twenty-something playboy. He was, she thought, possibly the most monogamous man she had ever met. If he was as serious in his acquiescence to her plan as he was in every other endeavor, they would be an excellent team.

“You’re really sure?” She had hoped for this, of course, but now it hardly seemed real. 

Hotch’s voice was warm. “Emily, speaking as a parent, every child deserves someone who is as passionate about them as you clearly are about Carrie. If I have the chance to make someone's life better and it doesn’t harm me or my family or the team in any way, then I don’t see how I could say no.”

“Thank you, sir. You don’t know how much this means to me.” Emily rarely cried, preferring to keep her rare bouts of melancholia and euphoria within the confines of her apartment, but she could feel herself tearing up, though she tried her best to conceal it. “We should be able to sign the necessary paperwork in the morning.”

“Of course,” he said. Emily stood and turned to leave the room, pausing in the door frame as she heard his voice again, colored by the return of his smile. “And Prentiss, if we’re going to pull this off, you probably shouldn’t call me sir.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving on and moving in

Hotch and the rest of the team flew back to DC the next day. Emily stayed back, claiming a “family emergency.” It wasn’t totally a lie.

That afternoon, she and Carrie went back to the house. Emily had offered to go alone and gather Carrie’s belongings, but Carrie insisted on seeing the house one last time. When they arrived, Carrie took her shoes off and stowed them in the closet, but Emily kept hers on, uncomfortable. The cracked family portraits were still on display in the living room, and Emily hurried Carrie past the blood-stained room. Carrie’s bedroom was eerily clean, all evidence of destruction tidied away. They worked in silence as they packed up her minimal belongings.

Occasionally, Emily would ask Carrie if she wanted a particular item, and she would respond. Apart from her clothes, most of the objects that had once belonged to Carrie’s family had become crucial evidence for the prosecution. At one point, out of the corner of her eye, Emily noticed Carrie slip a small stuffed jaguar in her suitcase, covering it immediately with a t-shirt. She didn’t comment.

When they finished with Carrie’s bedroom, Emily asked if there was anything else she wanted.

“Just one thing,” Carrie responded, disappearing into what had been her parents’ bedroom.

Emily stood alone in the living room, wondering how Carrie could possibly be so composed. There was no love lost between Emily and her parents, but even she would never want to return to the site of her almost-murder. It seemed likely Carrie was putting on a brave face, which an uncannily Reid-like voice warned her could be indicative of an unhealthy reaction to grief. Emily made a mental note to schedule an appointment with a therapist who specialized in teens and bereavement.

Carrie emerged from the room, carrying a large book in two hands. It was a scrapbook, Emily realized, probably full of family photos, but Carrie stowed it in her suitcase before Emily could ask any questions.

They exited the house. Before they entered the car Emily had rented, Carrie turned around and looked at the house.

“It’s the only place I’ve ever lived,” she said, her voice wistful. Emily wasn’t sure what to say. In this respect, she and Carrie diverged. As a child, Emily had been constantly traveling, never staying in any place long enough to put down roots. She settled for a simple acknowledgment.

“It must be hard to leave.” Carrie nodded, chin wobbling ever so slightly. As they drove away from the house, she kept her face pressed to the window, long after the house was out of sight.

~

That evening, Emily called Hotch. Carrie was in the shower, and Emily was sitting in bed, enjoying the feel of the expensive cotton sheets against her legs. Hotch picked up on the first ring.

“Prentiss?” Emily drew unexpected comfort from his voice. At the house, she had felt out of her depth, self-conscious about acting sufficiently parental at every turn. Hearing Hotch reminded her that she wasn’t completely alone.

“We need somewhere to live.” The realization that her one-bedroom apartment would not be suitable had come only today. It was nice enough, located in a convenient neighborhood, but not large enough for two adults and two kids, even if one of the kids was only there part-time.

Hotch cleared his throat. “Haley got the house. I’m currently living in an apartment, as I imagine you are.”

Emily nodded, before remembering that he couldn’t see her. “Yes, so that rules out both of our current places.” As she spoke, Emily had a sinking feeling about what needed to be done. “Actually, I do know somewhere we could stay.”

Although she was loath to admit it, Emily did technically own a home. Her mother had given her the deed as a birthday present, the least subtle signal yet that she was supposed to settle down. At that point, Emily wasn’t even living in the area, but Elizabeth had insisted that Emily would find herself there one day.

It was a picturesque house, two stories with a nauseatingly cliche white picket fence. There was a large front yard, if she remembered correctly, and a small garden in the back. It was even somewhat close to FBI headquarters, although she would have to remember to figure out where the nearest school was. In short, it was the perfect house for a husband and wife to raise two children in, a goal Emily would have scoffed at even just a week ago. Although she had resisted all attempts made for her to actually see the house, the keys still hung on a hook in her kitchen, taunting her.

“I own a house near Quantico,” she told him. “It’s big enough for all of us, but you’ll have to get it set up.” The photos of the house indicated that while the kitchen, living room, and dining room were fully furnished, Elizabeth Prentiss at least trusted her daughter to decorate a bedroom. Emily could bring her things for the master bedroom, but Hotch would need to furnish rooms for Jack and Carrie.

At that, it registered with Emily that she and Hotch had another problem: what were they going to do about money? Pooling their finances would prove awkward when it came to their eventual divorce, but she wasn’t comfortable asking Hotch to pay for things when they both had a steady source of income. Emily filed that under problems to worry about later.

“Did you hear me?” Startled, Emily registered that she hadn’t been paying attention to what Hotch had been saying.

“No, sorry, I was lost in my thoughts,” she apologized.

“I said I could take some time off tomorrow to set it up and asked how I could get into the house.” Although Hotch was normally irritated when his team members failed to pay attention, his voice was calm, and Emily wondered whether Hotch was panicking as much as she was. Although he was already raising a child, this situation had been sprung on him with no notice.

“Oh, the keys are in my apartment. JJ has a spare key.” Emily had given them to her after a particularly bad case, a tacit agreement that JJ could check up on her at any time. “Tell her I’m lending you a book. Or I can call her if you’d like.”

“I’m sure I can manage. I did, however, have to shoot down speculation about what you were doing in Chicago,” Hotch warned, although he still didn’t sound particularly worried. “Morgan was guessing it was a poorly disguised affair before Reid reminded him that it couldn’t technically be an affair because you aren’t married.”

Emily smiled. She could always count on Morgan and Reid to bring levity to any situation. The sound of running water in the bathroom ceased, and Emily bid Hotch goodnight as Carrie exited the bathroom.

“Who was that on the phone?” Carrie asked later, when they were both in bed. Emily looked up from her book.

“That was… my partner.” One thing she and Hotch had agreed on: they couldn’t lie to Carrie. Neither one of them wanted her to make a decision to stay with them based on false information. And yet Emily couldn’t find it in herself to tell the truth. It sounded almost pathetic out loud; my life is so lonely that to foster a child I pretended to be in a relationship with my recently divorced boss. At least “partner” gave her plausible deniability towards what kind of relationship they had.

She half-expected Carrie to push for more information, but Carrie simply turned off her light, seemingly satisfied with the answer. Emily folded down the corner of her book to mark her place, turned off the other light, and joined Carrie in restless slumber.

~

On the plane ride to DC, Carrie took a nap on Emily’s shoulder. As Carrie slept, Emily reflected on the funeral the day before. She had expected a quiet affair, given that Carrie seemingly had little family, but friends and neighbors alike had turned out en masse to offer their condolences. The coffins of Carrie’s parents had been closed, makeup unable to hide their extensive wounds, but Danny’s child-sized one had been open.

Carrie had held Emily’s hand as they looked at him, his expression peaceful. Although Emily had seen many dead bodies, she found herself fighting the urge to cry, promising herself that she would stay strong for Carrie.

During the service, Emily sat quietly in the back. She hadn’t been in a church for many years, and as Carrie stepped up to the lectern to speak about her family, Emily couldn’t help feeling that she had come full circle. When she told the church she did not desire a child, they cast her out, and here she was, more than fifteen years later, bringing a child into her life. If she had been less cynical, Emily might have even termed it a rebirth, but as it was she simply slipped out of the service early to weep quietly on the steps of the church.

~

It was evening when they finally landed in DC, and though her stomach grumbled, Emily resisted the urge to pick up burgers at the airport. She was nowhere near as bad as Spencer when it came to eating habits, but she still knew she’d have to eat healthier with Carrie around.

Emily hailed them a taxi, having left her car at the FBI building with the assumption that she would return with the rest of the team. She gave the address to the driver and pulled out her phone to inform Hotch that they were on their way. He had called her quickly yesterday to inform her that he had set up the bedrooms and was in the process of moving items from his apartment to the house, but she wasn’t sure where he was currently staying.

“Your partner?” asked Carrie as she finished her call. From her tone, Emily thought the girl might be teasing her, but she couldn’t quite tell. She decided to opt for sincerity with her response.

“Yes. He and his son will be at the house when we get there.” On the call, Hotch had informed her that Jack would be staying the weekend. Carrie looked interested at the mention of another child.

“How old is his son?” Emily wasn’t actually sure, although she thought Jack had had a birthday recently. She and Hotch really should have learned information about each other, à la Parent Trap.

“Two?” she guessed. She hadn’t been on the team when Jack was born, but she knew it was only months before Hotch and Haley split up.

For the rest of the ride, they talked about starting a new school and the classes Carrie had previously taken. She was a smart girl, and Emily hoped that she would be able to remain motivated despite the circumstances.

As they pulled up to the house, Emily hid a grimace. This was suburbia all right. Their house looked exactly like every other house on the street, the only difference being that Emily’s landscaping was not as well-tended, her grass not perfectly clipped. After paying the driver, Emily helped Carrie take their suitcases out of the trunk and carry them into the house.

When she opened the door, Emily was immediately struck by how homey the house already felt. The lighting was softer than the overexposed promotional pictures had shown and Hotch and Jack had both left their shoes and jackets in the entryway. Most enticingly, though, Emily could smell food.

As Emily and Carrie stepped over the threshold, Hotch rounded the corner, having clearly heard the door open. He was wearing an apron in a charmingly domestic gesture that indicated he was the likely source of the delicious aroma. When he saw Carrie, he smiled, wiped his hands on the apron and extended a hand.

“Aaron Hotchner. It’s good to see you again.” The introduction was slightly stilted, but Emily knew Hotch communicated his feelings better with actions than words. From making sure Reid had enough coffee on cases, to asking JJ about Henry when they were on a tough case, to, well, agreeing to do this with her, Hotch’s caring side was on display much more than people often thought.

Carrie thanked Hotch for his generosity, which he assured her was no object at all. “Emily has told me great things about you.” He then turned his gaze to Emily, who was still standing in the doorway.

This was the point in the heterosexual fantasy where an actual wife would kiss her husband, but there was no way in hell Emily was doing that. Instead, she settled for pulling Hotch into a genuine hug. Although she expected no less from him, seeing Hotch act so kindly towards Carrie had warmed her heart. He seemed momentarily surprised at her actions but relaxed quickly.

She released him from the hug just as Jack ran into the room, nearly colliding with Hotch. “Where you go?” Jack asked, then turned to look at Emily and Carrie.

“I’m right here, Jack,” said Hotch, reaching down to ruffle Jack’s hair. “Do you want to say hello to these people?”

Jack hid shyly behind Hotch but waved nonetheless, his little hand popping out from behind Hotch’s legs. Beside her, Carrie beamed in response and Emily realized that this was the first time she’d really seen Carrie’s smile, not counting her obligatory one as she greeted guests at the funeral.

Emily watched as Carrie knelt down to Jack’s level. “I’m Carrie,” she said, as Jack emerged from behind Hotch. “You’re Jack, right? How old are you?” He held up two fingers.

“That’s cool. I’m a little older than you but I bet we’ll get along great.” Emily had noticed that after giving her report of what had happened, Carrie had barely mentioned Danny to anyone. She wondered what the siblings’ relationship had been like. Another note for the therapist, she supposed.

“Come see toys?” Jack asked. Carrie turned around to look at Emily, silently asking permission to leave the room, which Emily granted with a wave of her hand. As the two disappeared around the corner, Jack’s laugh carrying down the hallway, Emily caught Hotch’s eye. He was smiling too, and Emily suspected he was thinking the same thing she was.

This might just work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily has some explaining to do

On Monday, Emily took Carrie to her first day of school. Hotch had wanted to come, but he had to take Jack to nursery. Secretly, Emily was pleased to have this moment alone with Carrie. She remembered all too well the feeling of starting a new school, getting used to a whole new set of customs and rituals.

She had called the principal yesterday and received her express assurances that Carrie would be able to start school mid-year. Her credits would transfer over, but Emily knew that wasn’t the difficult part. It was starting classes when everyone else knew each other’s names, when they had silently picked a seating chart and knew who they’d partner with for group projects.

Carrie had insisted on finding the school office by herself, although Emily had offered to come with her. She had suggested (facetiously, knowing Hotch would never tolerate it) that her FBI badge might help smooth things over, which had drawn a much-needed laugh. She had also suggested that Carrie should think about taking some honors classes, but decided to shelve the conversation when she saw the obvious flashbacks her request had caused.

They pulled up in front of the school, an imposing brick building that reminded Emily of the quintessential high school from every teen movie. Students were already streaming into the building, chattering as they went along. 

Emily searched for the right words to assure Carrie that she was capable of doing this. She was sure Hotch would have made an eloquent speech, but heartfelt sentiments were never her forte. She settled for flashing Carrie a smile and a thumbs-up.

Carrie smiled back and reached across the console to hug Emily, who reciprocated with only a moment’s hesitation. Two hugs in almost as many days was new territory for Emily, who tended to receive them more on a bimonthly basis, but she had a feeling it might become the new normal.

Emily watched Carrie walk towards the school until she had disappeared through the front doors. The honks of cars behind her informed her that she was holding up the carpool line, but Emily didn’t feel even a little sorry.

~

By Wednesday, Emily knew the jig was up. JJ had been shooting her and Hotch strange glances all day, looking as if she was trying to resist blurting something out in front of the entire bullpen. As Emily passed by JJ’s office, she felt a hand dart out and grab her wrist. Before she could respond, Emily was pulled into the darkened office.

“What do you want?” She knew, of course, but it was better to let it play out. There was a chance, albeit minuscule, that JJ simply wanted Emily’s help in planning a surprise party for Rossi. 

“Is this true?” JJ thrust the paper into Emily’s face. It was the address change form that she had just submitted. Damn. She and Hotch had been hoping the paperwork would pass to Strauss unnoticed, but they should have known JJ was never anything less than thorough.

“Yeah, it is.” She’d answered the question, technically, but they both knew that wasn’t what JJ was really asking.

“But you’re not attracted to men.” Emily had come out to JJ during one of their “girls’ nights,” while Garcia was fetching another round of drinks. JJ had been talking about some guy at the bar who she thought was cute, and Emily had felt something snap in her. She didn’t want to have to hide anymore: she knew JJ would be accepting even if she didn’t fully understand. And so Emily had blurted it out before she really knew what she was doing. JJ, to her credit, had blinked once before asking Emily if there were any girls at the bar she thought were good-looking. 

“Thanks, I know.” She hadn’t meant to sound so peeved, and regretted it immediately when she saw a look of hurt flash on JJ’s face.

“I’m just looking out for you.” Some days it felt as though that was JJ’s real job, caring for the team and trying to remind them not to lose sight of the mundane life they were fighting to protect. It was mostly futile, and they all knew it.

“I know,” said Emily, smiling at JJ and reaching out to squeeze one of her hands. 

JJ looked horrified as a thought came to her. “Hotch didn’t make you do this, did he?” At that, Emily nearly doubled over with laughter.

“God, no. If anything I forced his hand.” JJ looked confused, and Emily didn’t blame her. Present situation included, there were very few worlds in which Emily would voluntarily ask Hotch to move in with her.

“So, remember when you said you could see me with kids?” JJ nodded, realization beginning to dawn on her face. “Well, Hotch is currently helping me take care of Carrie and neither of our apartments was suitable for two adults, a teenager, and a very energetic toddler.”

“Does he know about…” JJ gestured vaguely at Emily. “...you?” This time, Emily didn’t bother pretending innocence.

“No,” she said. “And I don’t plan on telling him. There’s no reason for me to do so. Even if our marriage is a sham, that doesn’t mean I’m going to cheat on him.” Emily had been firm in that belief since she had hatched this scheme. Hotch was a man who took fidelity seriously, and she couldn’t do that to him, especially after Haley.

JJ clasped her other hand around Emily’s and squeezed. “Don’t get hurt, okay? And if you do, tell me so I can kick his ass into next week.”

Emily grinned. The fierceness of JJ’s love reminded her of how lucky she was to have found her place at the BAU. “Just, please, keep this between us,” she entreated JJ, before walking to Hotch’s office to inform him that they had been made.

~

Apparently, two year olds don’t usually attend school full-time. Emily had, but Hotch’s horrified look when she told him conveyed to her that this was yet another example of Elizabeth Prentiss’s less than superb parenting. Jack went to preschool three days a week, but the rest of them he spent with either Hotch or Haley.

On Thursday, Hotch was called away to an early morning meeting. The higher-ups were making budget cuts again, and Emily knew he and Strauss would have to fight tooth and nail just to avoid losing a member of the team. Carrie had already decided that she would prefer to take the bus to school, which left just Jack and Emily. She had the day off, courtesy of Hotch, providing no urgent cases arrived. At noon, she was supposed to drive Jack to Haley’s house, but right now they were enjoying a quiet morning together. 

As she finished up her paperwork, Emily kept one eye on Jack, who was playing with his extensive dinosaur collection. She sighed when she signed the last form, relieved to be done so early. There was a new sci-fi anthology that she had been meaning to read. Emily shut her eyes, intending on resting them for a brief moment before starting her book, but opened them again when she heard movement beside her. Jack had clambered up on the couch next to her and was staring at her intently. 

“Read?” he asked, gesturing at a picture book on the side table. Emily picked it up.

“I don’t know if I’ll be very good at it.” She was still getting used to living with a toddler. So far, she had managed to avert any world-ending cataclysms, but being alone with Jack was an entirely different situation. This time, there was no backup.

“Read,” he insisted, so Emily did. Jack wasn’t shy about informing Emily when she did things wrong. Apparently she read too fast and she didn’t do the voices like his Mommy did. When Emily completed the first book, saying “The End” in what she hoped was an appropriately dramatic tone of voice, Jack pointed to another one. Before she knew it, it was time to take Jack to Haley’s.

She had only met Haley a few times, but Emily harbored an intense dislike for anyone who would hurt Aaron Hotchner. They may not be the best of friends, but watching Hotch’s face fall every time Haley informed him that he would arrive in DC too late to see Jack would make any sane person sympathize. This was only compounded upon actually meeting Jack; he would stay up as late as possible if it meant he could see his father.

Emily strapped Jack into his car seat, struggling briefly with the buckles. She didn’t understand how Hotch could make it look so effortless. As soon as they left the neighborhood, she began blasting Melissa Etheridge, not caring what other people could hear. Her day off, her music. 

She turned the music down as they arrived in Haley’s neighborhood. The cookie-cutter houses reminded Emily of her and Hotch’s neighborhood, but this area was much more affluent. Even with a lawyer’s salary, she would bet Hotch and Haley had taken out a large loan to afford to live here.

Haley was already standing on the front porch when they arrived. Emily checked her watch: five minutes early. Good. She looked surprised to see Emily clamber out of the car, though Hotch had already cleared it with her. Emily sent a silent prayer to whatever god was listening as the straps to Jack’s car seat came undone easily. The last thing Hotch needed was to have Emily look incompetent. 

Jack refused to walk the two hundred or so feet to Haley, so Emily scooped him up and headed towards the house. When she reached the porch, Emily set him down, and he toddled over to give Haley a hug. She beamed at him, and the wrath clutching Emily’s heart loosened slightly.

“Thank you,” Haley said. Emily smiled thinly at her. 

“Hotch will be by to pick him up tomorrow.” Safer to stick to business. It lessened the chance Emily would say something she’d immediately regret. She waved at Jack. “Bye, kiddo. See you soon.”

“Bye, Auntie Emily!” he chirped in response. That was new. She had just been Emily so far, or ‘mily if Jack was especially sleepy. She’d have to check with Hotch that the nickname could stay, but Emily found she quite liked it.

Jack walked through the open door, and though Haley turned to watch him, she didn’t go inside. Emily loitered on the porch, sensing their conversation wasn’t finished. She was right.

“Does he make you happy?” Haley’s voice lacked malice. Emily supposed she was curious; even before the divorce, it must have been a long time since Hotch had made Haley happy.

She considered the question. Obviously, there was a right answer, given the pretend nature of their relationship. But as Emily thought about Hotch’s kindness towards her and Carrie, the way he was willing to risk Jack, the best thing in his life, so that Emily could have a chance to care for a child the way he did, she realized it was also the true answer.

“Yes.” Haley headed inside without a response, and Emily couldn’t tell whether she was pleased or irritated. It didn’t bother her either way.

~

When Emily poked her head into the living room, she saw Carrie sitting calmly on the couch. It was late and she had assumed that Carrie had already gone to bed, but apparently this was not the case. When Carrie noticed her staring, she motioned Emily to sit with her. Emily settled on the ottoman facing Carrie.

“What’s up?” she asked, feeling strangely as though she were the child in this situation, as if Carrie were the one summoning her for an intervention.

“Where’s Hotch?” A neat sidestep, and one that only served to further intrigue Emily.

“Getting ready for bed, I suspect.” Although Emily’s experience living with men was somewhat limited, Hotch took more time in the bathroom than any other man she’d met, although she respected that it meant she didn’t have to see him change.

As if summoned, Hotch emerged, freshly showered and wearing pajamas. He smelled like shaving cream, Emily reflected as he sat down next to her, and something else she couldn’t place. Although she made no move to initiate contact, Emily nevertheless felt more solid with him next to her. Whatever Carrie had to say, they could deal with it, together.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Carrie started. “For taking me in when no one else would.” 

Emily reached out to clasp Carrie’s hands, squeezing them tightly, but it was Hotch who spoke, his voice clear and words familiar. “Carrie, there’s no need to thank us--”

“But you don’t need to pretend anymore.” Emily and Hotch exchanged a look, but it was not a glance between friends (or whatever they were). It was the same look they exchanged when an unsub revealed crucial information during an interrogation.  _ What did Carrie know? _

“What?” Emily had learned early how to feign innocence. It had saved her more times than she could count, from escaping the wrath of Elizabeth Prentiss to baiting a suspect to pretending to not be so fucked up when pretty girls hit on her in bars.

Carrie, however, was having none of Emily’s act. “You know what I mean. You expect me to believe that you’re married to a man who you don’t even call by his first name?” 

Emily felt again like a chastened child, called out with one hand in the cookie jar. She looked to Hotch for moral support, but he looked as blindsided as she felt. When he turned to face her, she could see mounting rage in the way his body tensed, although his face remained impassive as ever. Then Emily remembered their one rule: don’t lie to Carrie. 

“You got us there,” said Hotch. Emily marveled at the way he could switch from angry to personable in a moment, although the glare he first shot Emily made clear that they were going to talk later. “Was it just the names that gave us away?”

Gathering information on their tells, that was smart. 

“The names were definitely a giveaway.” Carrie considered them for a moment. Mostly, though, it was the lack of touching. I can see no kissing --maybe you’re just very private people-- but you don’t even hold hands and I’ve only seen you hug once.” She gestured at them. “Even now, you’re sitting with a couple inches between you.”

_ Right now, Hotch would probably prefer they sat even farther away, _ Emily thought bitterly. 

“But I’m not going to say anything, if that’s what you’re upset about.” With that level of perception and intuition, Carrie would make a grade-A profiler. Not that Emily would wish their lives on anyone.

Emily still didn’t trust herself to speak, so she simply nodded as Hotch spoke again. “Thank you for trusting us.” He checked his watch. “It’s late. Are you going to bed now?”

Callie responded affirmatively and slipped out of the room, leaving Emily and Hotch in stony silence. When Hotch spoke again, his voice contained undisguised anger. “Prentiss, what the hell was that?”

The use of her last name only stoked in her a desire to fight back. Emily might break down crying, but Prentiss wouldn’t. Prentiss wasn’t vulnerable, wouldn’t apologize.

“Don’t yell at me,” she hissed. Hotch stiffened, then softened at the look on Emily’s face.

“I’m sorry. It was out of line for me to speak like that, but what you did was also out of line. We agreed no lying to Carrie.” She couldn’t meet his gaze. Self-loathing welled inside her. How could she have ever thought she was good enough to be a parent when she couldn’t even keep a basic promise?

“Emily?” If she lifted her head there would be no denying the tears in her eyes.

“I tried to. It just… I just…”  _ failed,  _ she finished mentally.  _ Couldn’t deal with the idea that what was maybe my only chance at motherhood could disappear. _ Although she wasn’t willing to verbalize those thoughts, she still felt she owed it to Hotch to try and explain. “I got scared. And I know you’ve heard this a lot recently, but I’m sorry.”

Hotch didn’t tell her she shouldn’t be sorry. She had messed up, and they both knew it. Now the only question was what he would do. Never trust her again, Emily supposed. Their partnership had seemed so promising, but of course she had ruined it. Outside of work, she could never do anything right.

“Next time, Emily, I just need you to tell me.” After years spent under the thumb of the Catholic Church, finding someone with a true capacity for forgiveness always surprised Emily. Hotch had surprised her again and again. 

“I will, Aaron,” she said, trying out the unfamiliar name on her tongue. It still felt a little too strange, not natural enough for casual conversation, but she could work on it. “I won’t let you down.”

It was a tall order to live up to, but Emily had to try.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good days and bad days

Before long, the Hotchner-Prentiss household had settled into a routine. Hotch got up early, getting ready before anyone else was even awake, while Emily and Carrie both preferred to sleep in as late as possible, rolling out of bed just in time to get ready for the day ahead. On the days he slept at their house, Jack woke only as the smell of breakfast drifted into his room. They ate breakfast together and Emily, no matter how tired she was, always made sure to see Carrie off to the bus.

Hotch and Emily took turns driving to work. On their drives, Emily discovered that Hotch had a soft spot for classic rock, and he in turn was privy to her truly awful taste in both acoustic pop and the punk bands of her youth. If anyone asked them why they had arrived together, they played it off as simply carpooling, and the ban on inter-office profiling stopped any outward questioning. 

One thing the rest of the team did notice was that their working relationship was better than ever. Hotch looked to Emily when he needed an extra opinion on something in her wheelhouse and Emily, noticing this, worked on turning her combativeness into constructive suggestions. “Worked” being the operative word. There were still days where neither could see eye to eye, days when Hotch told Prentiss to “remember her place,” when Emily started sentences with “respectfully, sir” and didn’t mean either word. The drive back those days was silent.

Regardless of how the day went, they ate dinner together every night. Emily wasn’t a great cook, but she could make simple dishes and Hotch taught her how to saute vegetables and prepare meats other than chicken. Carrie, who had joined various activities at school, would come home just in time to set the kitchen table. 

The structured routine irritated Emily at first. Her parents had mostly given her free rein until the “incident,” and the only time they ever got together as a family was for formal functions. Slowly, though, she found she appreciated the way it allowed them to connect. They avoided talking about work, but Carrie told them about school and they all talked about sports and books and movies and the news. It was mundane conversation, and although Emily knew they would have to confront Carrie’s trauma eventually, she supposed this was progress for all of them.

On weekdays, Hotch and Emily finished their paperwork in separate rooms. He had picked up quickly that if they worked side by side, Emily couldn’t help but feel as though he was assessing her. Now they only interacted when Emily asked Hotch questions from the other room.

When Emily was done, she headed upstairs. Hotch, as she had previously noted, spent an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom, so she liked to get there first. After getting ready fo bed, Emily usually laid in bed with a book, waiting for Hotch. 

The shared bed had been awkward, initially, with Emily building a dividing line of pillows down the middle, but now they stuck to their respective sides without the barrier. She wouldn’t have hesitated to throw Hotch out if she detected any hints of inappropriate behavior, but he was (as always) the perfect gentleman. Now, although she’d never admit it, Emily enjoyed the saccharine ritual of reading quietly together before one of them called it a night.

~

On one of those nights, Emily was busy making a list. One of the strangest things about living in suburbia was her inability to walk to the nearest store. When she lived in her apartment, both the workers at the corner store and the nearest Chinese takeout knew her well. Now, though, all shopping trips had to be planned well in advance. She understood now why housewives went crazy; there was no room for spontaneity in their lives. 

Hotch peered over her shoulder, and Emily resisted the urge to pull the piece of paper to her chest. She watched his face as he scanned the simple list she had compiled: toothpaste, deodorant, Advil. Being responsible for others still wasn’t her strong suit, but she could at least handle a trip to the drugstore.

“You forgot tampons,” he said, tapping the paper. “We’re almost out.” 

To say Emily was surprised by Hotch’s reaction would be a gross understatement. In her experience, it was a rare man who was comfortable acknowledging the existence of periods, let alone saying the word “tampons.” The more she learned about Hotch, the more his brusque work self felt like an elaborate facade (not that she could judge).

“Thanks.” She noted it down, an idle thought escaping her mouth. “I’m surprised you noticed.”

He froze. Emily had spent enough time with Spencer to know that people only made that expression when their minds were going a mile a minute.

“Just… leftover from my marriage to Haley, I guess.” His voice shook a little.

Emily nodded, nonplussed, before returning the piece of paper to the nightstand and picking up her book. She didn’t feel comfortable probing the source of his obvious discomfort, but if she curled up closer to Hotch as she read, noticing the way his breathing steadied as she neared, well, the rest of the team would never know.

~

Toddlers are not at the most coordinated stage of their lives, as Emily quickly learned. Jack could walk and run well enough, but seemed to not possess the balance necessary to kick a ball or throw with any accuracy. To his credit, neither of those facts seemed to dampen his enthusiasm.

Saturday morning found them all at the local park. It was early, so the park was mostly deserted. Scattered parents watched kids swing on monkey bars and play in the sandbox, but Jack had a different mission in mind. He made a beeline directly for the soccer field, tugging Carrie behind him. Hotch and Emily followed, leaving Jack’s stroller on the sidelines.

As a result of spending much of her childhood in Europe, Emily’s soccer skills were passable, although in no way comparable to JJ’s. Hotch was no better, though, and they spent a great deal of time chasing after the runaway ball. 

Judging from their matching grins, Carrie and Jack were both having a blast. As an only child, Emily had often wished for siblings, and she felt an echo of that longing as she watched Carrie pass to Jack, careful not to give the ball too much spin. Carrie still hadn’t opened up about her family, and Emily wondered again what her relationship with her brother had been like. There was something about her interactions with Jack that suggested the need for atonement. 

Emily shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts. It wouldn’t do to mar their outing by bringing up Carrie’s past. She headed over to the sidelines of the field, noticing another woman watching their little game. 

“Yours, I assume?” the woman asked, gesturing towards Hotch, who was now doing a very exaggerated slow dive towards Jack.

Emily nodded, slightly uneasy. Working at the FBI did no favors when it came to seeing danger around every corner. Still, idle curiosity could be just that. 

“Is your family here?” Emily kept her tone friendly.

The woman pointed to the playground, where two girls were chasing each other around. The younger one, who looked to be a little older than Jack, got tagged and shrieked, before reversing direction and taking off.

“The older one is Evelyn and the younger one is Julia,” she said, pride evident in her voice. 

As if on cue, the girls turned as another woman called their names. They ran to her, giggling as she picked them up one at a time and swung them around.

“And that’s Amy… my partner.” The woman looked at Emily, gauging her reaction. Emily had been the one giving that look far too many times, wondering if what followed would be disgust or understanding. She made sure to telegraph her acceptance with a kind smile.

“Oh, and I’m Edith.” The woman visibly relaxed, and Emily mirrored her, certain now that she harbored no ill will. Edith turned to her, obviously expecting a reciprocation of introductions.

Emily obliged, pointing out Carrie, Jack, and Hotch in turn (although this time she remembered to call him Aaron). She and Edith chatted about their families until Jack came to ask Emily to rejoin the game. As Emily let Jack lead her away, the two women exchanged numbers and promised to schedule a playdate, an almost surreal parody of suburbia.

Upon reflection, Emily was surprised by how little jealousy she felt. Here were two women, happily living a life her younger self didn’t even dare to dream of, and yet Emily couldn’t picture herself in their place. Loath as she was to admit it, she had always been in search of a perfect someone. That hope had kept her from settling down, every girlfriend just not quite the right one. 

In a way, Hotch was the perfect choice. He had given her the chance to have a family without having to worry about happily-ever-afters. Or rather, she supposed, watching Jack nap in the back of the car as Carrie played with her phone, he had given her the possibility of a different kind of happy ending.

~

When they got home, Hotch slipped off to take a shower while Emily shepherded Carrie and Jack into the living room. 

“Emily, can we watch a movie?” Carrie asked, having settled herself on the couch. Jack was sitting at her feet, happily entertaining himself with a dinosaur.

“Sure, sweetheart.” Emily didn’t miss the way Carrie smiled at the nickname. “Your pick.”

Carrie scrolled through various options before settling on some new action movie and turning to Emily for approval. It didn’t look too violent, and Emily figured Jack wasn’t paying attention anyway, so she okayed the pick and they began watching. 

It was in fact a fairly tame movie, and Emily was right in her assessment of Jack’s lack of interest, but (of course) Hotch walked in just as the violence started.

He took one look at the screen before scooping up a now very sleepy Jack and carrying him out of the room. When Hotch returned, jaw set and face stony, he didn’t mince his words: “What were you thinking? Jack shouldn’t be watching this.”

Emily crossed her arms, getting up to face Hotch. “Jack’s two, Aaron. He won’t remember any of this. He wasn’t even paying attention.”

“It’s my call. What do you know about childhood development?” Plenty, Emily wanted to retort, mostly in the vein of “how to be an absent parent who still manages to ruin your child’s life.” She opted for a simpler response. 

“Don’t pretend you’re some kind of expert on it either.” She was willing to bet Hotch had done all the required reading leading up to Jack’s birth, but reality was always more complicated.

“Either way,” he said, and Emily thought for a brief moment she had won before his next words came crashing down. “I’m his parent and you’re not.” 

Emily could hear the blood rushing in her ears, but what could she say to that? It was easy to forget that she and Jack were technically bound by nothing, but Hotch was right, though she hadn’t expected him to use it against her. She opened her mouth to retort, not sure of her next words but with a sinking feeling that they were likely to tank their whole arrangement, when Hotch spoke again.

“Carrie, are you alright?”

At his words, Emily spun around, anger temporarily forgotten. Carrie had slid off the sofa and was sitting on the floor with her legs pulled against her chest, hands over her ears. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. 

“Please… please don’t fight.” 

Emily and Hotch were both by her side in an instant. Wordlessly, they split the job of comforting Carrie, with Emily rubbing soothing circles on Carrie’s back while Hotch helped her get back on the couch. Carrie was apologizing now, tears threatening to spill out at any moment.

“It’s okay. No one’s mad at you.” Emily murmured. Internally, she could feel her anger returning: _how could Hotch have allowed Carrie to feel she was at fault?_ Rationally, she knew that Hotch hadn’t blamed Carrie at all, but anger was a better option than helplessness.

They sat together, Hotch and Emily glued to Carrie until her breathing began to even out. “I didn’t mean to cause this,” she said again, sniffling slightly. 

Hotch took one of Carrie’s hands in his, guiding it away from her face. “I know, and I wasn’t upset with you, not even for a moment.” Carrie gave a shaky nod but Emily could tell she didn’t really believe him.

“Let’s just watch another movie, okay?” Emily suggested, flipping the channels until she reached something fluffy. Carrie curled up into her side, seeming much smaller than her fifteen years. 

Hotch was hovering awkwardly, and Emily found herself watching him instead of the movie. Her anger still simmered, compounded with the fear that Hotch was right, but she could see fear in his eyes as well. He was scared that he had messed up, Emily thought. She remembered the forgiveness he had extended her and knew she would have to do the same, provided he apologized. And if he didn’t, well, there would be hell to pay.

Thankfully, Hotch was the kind of person to know when he was in the wrong. His apology came that night as they laid in bed. Emily was preparing to turn off the light when Hotch rolled to face her and started speaking.

“Emily, I’m sorry. I acted condescendingly and I was wrong to imply that you don’t care about Jack. You’ve been really great with him and I’m thankful every day that I don’t have to go this alone.” Although the apology sounded pre-planned, his tone was sincere, and Emily supposed that was what counted.

“I just need you to believe that we’re both trying our best,” she replied, voice insistent. “We’ll both end up making mistakes, but if we can’t communicate we’ll never be able to fix anything.” She had enough first-hand experience in that to last her a lifetime.

Hotch was silent for a moment before he spoke again. 

“I can’t promise to be perfect,” he said, words measured. “I’m so used to being the leader that it’s hard for me to let others make the key decisions, and sometimes I scare myself with how strongly I react, but I always respect you and I’ll do my best to make sure that we can work together instead of pulling each other apart.” 

It had to be enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares only serve to make tensions worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings in this chapter for canon-typical depictions of dead bodies and violence, as well as guns

As soon as Emily opened her eyes, she knew she was in a dream. Sure, the walls around her looked like the BAU, but they felt different in a way she couldn’t explain. She rose from her desk slowly, inspecting her surroundings. It was quiet, too quiet. The bullpen was never this silent, not even after a particularly awkward remark. Where was everyone?

Without conscious thought, Emily began walking, heading up the flight of stairs until she was standing in front of Hotch’s office. She knocked once on his door, the sound echoing in the emptiness. 

“Come in,” he said. He sounded weary.

When Emily opened the door, there were dead bodies on the floor. Ah, so it was this sort of dream, she thought wryly. Dead bodies on their own had long since ceased to scare her, but they still appeared periodically in her dreams. A warm-up to worse horrors, usually.

“Please sit.” Taking her cue from Hotch, who was acting as if this situation were completely normal, Emily ignored the bodies and sat down on the seat in front of his desk. “You know what you’ve done, don’t you?”

Emily shook her head. “No, sir.” 

Sometimes she did. Those were the dreams where everyone else moved about their daily routines, laughing and chatting, while she stood, paralyzed with the knowledge of all she had done.  _ They would hate you if they knew the real you _ , a voice would tell her. But this time she didn’t know, and that was scarier, somehow.

“You failed them, all of them.” He didn’t sound angry, only disappointed.

“Who?” She had failed more people than could fit in this office, but they were hardly nightmare material. Failure was a part of the job, even more than heroism and bravery.

The man behind the desk (and she could see now that it wasn’t Hotch, had never been Hotch) scoffed, a mannerism that didn’t quite fit his face. Hotch was very rarely disdainful; disgusted, yes, but not contemptuous. “You don’t even remember. Such a bad mother. They’ll be better off without you.”

Emily knew the bodies she had seen before hadn’t been those of Jack and Carrie. She would have noticed; the corpses of children would never fail to terrify her. And yet she also knew, with a sickening feeling, that when she turned, it would be their bodies lying motionless on the floor.

“Take a look,” not-Hotch taunted. Emily shut her eyes in an attempt to block it out, to wake up, but the scene continued, unhurried. 

She let out a sob as she saw them. Jack was curled up against Carrie in a cruel facsimile of sleep. They looked peaceful, almost, but she knew they would never open their eyes again. Emily dropped to her knees, cradling their bodies in her arms. 

Not-Hotch let out a dark chuckle. Emily felt her body contract in anger; a scream was building in her, an unholy sound. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind Carrie’s ear and stood. Before he could react, she had reached across the desk and grabbed him by the throat.

“What did you do?” she demanded. She needed answers, was prepared to shout herself hoarse if that’s what it took. “Answer me!”

He opened his mouth to answer, but it was a different voice she heard instead, emanating through the room. 

“Wake up,” it said, and that was really Hotch’s voice, steady and insistent. “Emily, you have to wake up.”

This time, when she shut her eyes, Emily awoke to a bedroom awash in light, Hotch leaning over her in concern. “You were thrashing and crying out,” he said by way of explanation. “I had to wake you before you screamed and scared Carrie.”

_ Carrie.  _ Jack was at Haley’s, but she had to make sure Carrie was alright. Her rational brain told her they would have heard something, but Emily knew that she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep without checking. She kicked the covers back and attempted to slip out of bed, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her in her tracks.

“What do you need?” Emily’s heart was still pounding, and her mouth was dry when she tried to speak.

“Check on… Carrie?” she whispered, swallowing in an attempt to regain feeling.

“Of course,” Hotch said, leaving her alone in the room.

Emily’s heart was still pounding and she felt awake, too awake. She sat up in bed, back pressed flush against the headboard, and took deep breaths.  _ It was only a dream _ , she told herself.  _ It wasn’t even a realistic dream _ . And yet the image of Jack and Carrie on the floor was scrawled across her corneas.

It felt like Hotch had been gone hours when he returned, although Emily knew it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. He nodded in response to her unspoken question and she felt herself relax, finally. 

As he reached the bed, Hotch held out a glass of water. Emily took it thankfully and drank it in one gulp, only realizing then how thirsty she had been. She set the glass down on her bedside table as Hotch got back into bed next to her. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, turning to face her.

Emily’s immediate reflex was to say no. Avoidance had always been her first line of defense. If that failed, humor would suffice; the bare truth was to be avoided at all costs. But she had promised to try and communicate, and while she was firm in her conviction that Hotch didn’t need to know all of her secrets, she supposed these fears were worth trying to share.

“Just a nightmare,” she began, although she supposed Hotch had gleaned that much. “I saw Jack and Carrie hurt and it shook me up.”

“They get better,” Hotch said, then clarified at Emily’s puzzled look. “As soon as Jack was born, I started having dreams like yours. I never told Haley but, eventually, they went away.”

She found that hard to believe. 

“Do you want to keep the lights on?” Emily nodded, grateful. Sleep was not something she wanted right now, not if it would bring the dream back.

Eventually, Hotch pulled the covers over his head and fell back asleep, but Emily stayed up, tiredness building in her bones, not daring to shut her eyes.

~

The horrible, no-good, very bad week started, as most weeks do, with a fairly typical Monday morning. Emily rolled out of bed to find Hotch already dressed and with breakfast at the ready.

“Case?” she guessed, taking the coffee mug he proffered. Hotch nodded. 

“JJ will brief us when we get there.” 

Emily drank the coffee in one gulp, wincing at the way it burned her tongue. She dressed quickly, meeting Hotch at the front door in record time. On her way out the door, Emily gave Carrie a goodbye arm squeeze, smiling at her bleary face. 

“We should be back tonight,” she said. “If we’re not, someone will come stay with you, okay?”

They had somehow miraculously managed to avoid overnight cases since Carrie had arrived, mostly doing consults from the office or taking local cases. If Emily didn’t know better, she’d say Hotch and JJ were doing it on purpose. Maybe it was the universe’s way of letting Carrie have a break; no matter the reason, Emily wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Hotch drove, which meant Emily got to pick the music. He didn’t comment on her choice, but Emily saw his fingers tap against the console in time to the beat. She hummed along softly, feeling more peaceful than she had in a long time. 

Unfortunately, that feeling was shattered almost as soon as it began. JJ spared Emily a single knowing look as she and Hotch entered the bullpen together before hustling the whole team into a conference room. 

The images projected on the screen made Emily blanch, and Hotch’s intake of breath next to her suggested that he was having a similar reaction. Girls, no older than eighteen, all of them brunettes, all of them with throats slit and faces pale. She could already tell it was going to be a tough one. 

From there, it only got worse. The unsub had kidnapped the girls from secluded roads late at night, walking home from their jobs. He was meticulous, leaving no trace of his presence, although he must have been monitoring them to learn their routines. The girls were tortured for a week, then dumped in seemingly random locations around the city. He wasn’t sloppy, and he wouldn’t be easy to catch. 

By the end of the first day, the BAU had established several key facts. They had a missing girl, no credible leads, no eyewitness descriptions, the worst selection of coffee imaginable, and absolutely no chance of heading home within the next few days.

Emily tiptoed to Hotch’s door after the team had turned in for the night, knowing he would still be awake. All of them had trouble falling asleep on cases, minds still processing facts and patterns. He looked confused to see her, and Emily was reminded of the meeting that had started all of this. This time, she brushed past him and into the room, settling herself comfortably on the bed.

“I’m going to call Carrie,” she informed him. “I thought you’d like to say hello.”

His face brightened, and Emily motioned him over as she rang their home phone. Carrie picked up on the first ring. Penelope was staying with her for the time being, and they could hear her in the background, greeting them brightly. Carrie was going to study with friends tomorrow, but she promised to be home before eleven and to not get into any trouble. 

“Are you coming home soon?” Carrie asked. Emily looked at Hotch, unwilling to make promises she couldn’t keep but feeling like it was the right thing to do anyway.

“No lying,” he mouthed at her, then spoke to Carrie. “We’ll be home as soon as possible.”

“Oh. Can I see Jack on my own if it takes a while?” Emily hadn’t realized that Carrie enjoyed spending time with him so much. Jack was at Haley’s right now, but she’d probably be more than happy to have another hand. Recently, he’d gotten even more energetic, and both Emily and Hotch had trouble keeping up with him.

Hotch spoke first. “I’ll ask Haley, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. Ask Garcia if she can drive you.” 

Penelope confirmed that she would also be more than happy to see her surrogate nephew, and they all said their goodbyes. As she ended the call, Emily was hit with a wave of something like homesickness. She should’ve been at the house, helping to make dinner and laughing at Jack and Carrie’s antics. But the only way to make that a reality was to focus on solving the case and just hope that Carrie wouldn’t worry too much about them.

It was the morning of the fifth day when Emily began to seriously consider that they might not catch the bastard. They had recanvassed the crime scenes a million times, interviewed the families, set up a tip line. Nothing. He would get away with this one and slip away to some other town, bide his time until the next victim. It wasn’t often the BAU failed to bring a killer to justice, but the times they did fail were always the most painful.

That night, she had the dream again. This time, though, there was no Hotch to wake her. Instead, Emily clutched at Jack and Carrie’s limp bodies and cried out, waking only to the sound of her own screams. She wanted nothing more than to go down the hallway to Hotch’s room, ask him to comfort her or simply lie next to him in silence. She made it as far as her own door before realizing the absurdity of what she was doing; Hotch would hardly want to be woken just to hear about Emily’s problems. 

Sleep didn’t come for the rest of the night, but the team, Hotch excepted, was kind enough not to mention the dark circles under her eyes. Hotch, though, pulled her aside before they began work that morning. 

“Are you alright?” He sounded genuinely concerned, but Emily didn’t want him thinking she wasn’t able to do her job. Her moment of weakness had passed, and she saw now that she couldn’t afford to confuse Hotch and Aaron. 

“I’m fine.” If he was offended by her brusqueness, he didn’t show it.

“If you need anything, Emily, please tell me.” She nodded, then purposefully drew Reid into conversation about the geographic profile, hoping Hotch would drop the subject. 

That day was the day they finally found something. It was small, to be sure, a person who thought they might have seen a girl in the back of a car, but it was something. That shred of information proved to be the final piece in the puzzle, and within hours they had found their unsub. 

He was a family man, two children, no indications of his inclinations except for a very carefully expunged juvenile record. By all accounts, he had completely turned his life around since his teenage years, but losing his wife had clearly been a stressor. The team had no doubt that he was keeping the missing girls in his recently renovated basement. The only thing left to do now was decide how to proceed.

“Reid and I will go around back and look for an outside entrance,” Hotch instructed. “Prentiss, at my signal, you and Morgan will come in hot from the front.”

“No.” Emily could already see what would go wrong.

“What do you mean, no?” He fixed her with a hard stare, but she didn’t flinch.

“If we go in guns blazing, someone’s going to get hurt. I don’t want it to be one of the kids.” She took a step forward, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Prentiss, this man is clearly smart and calculating. If we give him any indication we’re there, he’ll kill the girl and make a run for it.” 

“I don’t want to be proven right, Hotch, but I will be if we go along with your plan.” Even if Emily hadn’t firmly believed she was right, she was in too deep to apologize now. It was just going to have to be one of those days.

Hotch’s voice was quiet when he spoke again. “As your Unit Chief,” he hissed, and Emily knew she had gone too far if he was pulling rank. “I would suggest you not question my ability to conduct an operation.”

“Fine. At least I’ll know I tried to stop it.” She was silent for the rest of the briefing, not even sparing Hotch a glance to see his reaction to her outburst. 

It was eventually decided that Reid and the local PD would scour the property for the basement door. Hotch and JJ would go in the back and try to get the children out, while Emily and Morgan went in through the front. Emily knew she had gotten her way, but it didn’t feel like a victory, not when Hotch wouldn’t look at her. 

In the end, it was Emily who burst through the basement door, Morgan right behind her. She kept her hands steady on her gun as she descended the stairs, although she could hear her heart pounding in her chest. 

“Hands up!” she shouted, pointing her gun towards the unsub and motioning Morgan forward. Hotch had been right; their relative silence meant the unsub hadn’t had a chance to run. Only after he was safely cuffed did Emily turn her attention towards the girl on the floor.

She was badly bruised and sobbing, curled into the fetal position with her hands over her head. Emily crouched down next to her and touched her shoulder lightly. 

“You’re safe now,” she said. The girl let out another cry but pulled her hands away from her head, enabling Emily to see her properly. Haunted eyes stared out from her tear streaked face, and Emily was reminded of how Carrie had looked when they had first met, all the fire in her extinguished. She still wore that look sometimes, when she thought Emily and Hotch weren’t looking. It broke Emily’s heart every time.

The girl took Emily’s outstretched hand wordlessly, letting Emily pull her into an awkward side embrace but shaking her head when asked if she’d like to be carried. Emily escorted her up the stairs and out of the house, into the arms of the waiting paramedics. She stayed with her as the paramedics examined her, holding her hand the whole time. 

It was only when the ambulance left for the hospital that Emily finally allowed herself to relax. The local police had charged the unsub and taken him to the precinct, but the rest of the team was still at the crime scene. They didn’t talk much on the way to the airport, all of them wanting to get home as quickly as possible.

On the plane, Emily sat next to JJ, letting her head rest on JJ’s shoulder. She tried to sleep but found she couldn’t. Every time she closed her eyes it was Carrie lying on that floor, Carrie looking up at her with a vacant stare. In that moment, Emily needed desperately to be home, needed to gather Carrie in her arms and reassure herself that she was okay.

Unfortunately, a car ride with Hotch stood between her and home. They still hadn’t cleared the air since their argument, and the beginning of their ride was filled with a tense silence. They drove for ten minutes, the atmosphere growing more stifling with each passing minute before Hotch abruptly shattered the silence.

“She isn’t Carrie.” His words were clipped, betraying no emotion.

“I know that.” All the girls had been Carrie, though, hadn’t they? She and Hotch had both known that from the moment they walked into the conference room. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t do her job.

“I was right that he would have fled.” 

“I don’t doubt that.” She wasn’t going to let him convince her that she had been wrong for speaking up. 

Emily was glad when they finally reached the house. She exited the car without a backwards glance, resisting the urge to run up the front path. Carrie opened the door before Emily could even knock and pulled her into a fierce hug. They stood in the doorway for a long moment, Carrie breathing steadily against Emily’s shoulder. 

Only Hotch’s polite cough in the doorway brought them both back to the present. Carrie let go of Emily and pulled him into an equally tight hug. Emily thought she detected a hint of surprise in the way he reciprocated, as if he had expected that Carrie would have missed him less. 

The tension between Emily and Hotch that had dissipated upon seeing Carrie returned almost as soon as it had gone. Emily kept silent to avoid making snide remarks, and Hotch evidently had the same idea. By the time the third hour of silence rolled around, Emily couldn’t take it anymore. She gathered her phone and her keys, desperate to escape the house.

“I’m going for a run,” she shouted as she laced up her sneakers. If Hotch heard her, he didn’t respond.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily and Hotch have (another) conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for brief mentions of bruising

Emily left the house and began running, thinking of nothing other than the feeling of her feet on the pavement. She ran in wide circles around their neighborhood, ignoring the people who waved at her from their yards, and, slowly but surely, she felt some of the tension seep away. 

When she finally stopped for a breath, Emily realized her phone was ringing. It was Hotch. Her finger hovered over the ‘decline’ button before she sighed and pressed ‘accept.’ Even after all that had occurred between them, she trusted Hotch to not interrupt her solitude unless it was absolutely necessary.

“Emily?” It was Carrie on the other end of the line. She sounded frantic, and Emily felt her stomach drop. _Shit. What now?_

“What’s the matter?” She turned back in the direction of the house, setting a brisk pace.

There was a short pause, and Emily could hear Carrie’s breath coming in gasps. “It’s… it’s Hotch. He came back from getting Jack and he fell and he’s not getting back up. I think he’s breathing but I’m not sure.”

Emily began to run, still holding her phone to her ear. “Is Jack okay?”

“Yeah, he’s with me. You’ll be here soon?” Her voice wobbled and she sounded every inch herself, a girl who had been hurt so much more than she’d admit. Emily wanted nothing more than to reach through the phone and hug her.

“Of course,” she said instead, breaking into a sprint. “I love you.”

Later, after the adrenaline had passed, Emily would consider why it had felt so perfectly natural, the obvious way to end the call. Later, Carrie would say “I love you too” and Emily would get to pull her into a deep hug. Later, it would become second nature, a routine call and response.

Now, though, Emily simply ran. It was no longer the peaceful activity it had been before. Each footstep conjured awful images: Hotch hurt and bleeding, Emily too late to save him. It was the dream all over again, only this time it was Hotch she had failed.

Shaking hands made fitting the key in the lock difficult, but Emily steadied herself long enough to open the door. Carrie was waiting for her in the entryway, worrying her lip hard enough that Emily could see a drop of blood forming.

“He’s in the bathroom. I tried to move him, but…” Emily put her hands on Carrie’s shoulders and looked her in the eyes, trying to tamp down on her panic for Carrie’s sake.

“You did what you could, okay? Go take care of Jack.” _Hotch will be fine_ , she wanted to say. _No lying_ , a very Hotch-like voice admonished her, and Emily almost cracked a smile at how familiar the exchange was.

Carrie looked at her, eyes shining with tears, and Emily forced herself to let go, though not before giving Carrie’s shoulders a last, light squeeze. _I am still here._

Hotch was lying face-up on the tile floor, dressed only in a t-shirt and shorts. His skin was pale and his eyes were closed, but he didn’t look peaceful. Instead, his expression was one of weariness, crinkled lines folding around his eyes and mouth set in a frown. Emily crouched down to feel his pulse, pressing two fingers against his neck and sending a prayer to long-abandoned gods.

And thank whatever deity might be out there, he had a pulse. It was faint but insistent, and Emily thought she had never felt more relief in her life. Even in Italy, knowing it was over, hadn’t felt quite like this. 

Emily threaded her arms under Hotch’s, using her whole body to pull him up into a sitting position and moving him carefully until he was leaning against the bathtub. He still hadn’t uttered a sound. Next, she got a washcloth from the pile next to the sink, wetting it under the tap. The only sound in the room was the steady flow of water, and Emily began to talk just to fill up the rest of the silence. 

“Don’t ever do that again, Hotch.” She was crying now, letting out the tears she had been loath to let Carrie see fall. “What was I supposed to do without you?”

As she knelt to press the washcloth against his face, Hotch stirred, opening his eyes a fraction and then grimacing. Emily pressed the cool compress against his forehead, closing her eyes in a futile attempt to stem the flow of tears.

“Can you stand up?” Hotch gave a valiant effort, lifting himself a fraction off the floor before collapsing back down on it. His pained groan told Emily he was definitely hurt, but hopefully it was nothing more than a couple bruises. 

“Okay, where does it hurt?” Hotch gestured to his back, wincing at the movement.

“Here?” Emily reached out to touch his torso, but his hand flew out to stop her.

“There’s something you need to know,” he said, voice little more than a whisper.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, retracting her hand, Hotch following suit a moment later. _What could he possibly need to say that couldn’t wait?_ If he was seriously hurt, every second that passed was a second he wasn’t getting help. 

“Obviously, these aren’t ideal circumstances, but I wouldn’t be telling you this if I didn’t trust you,” he said, then smiled wanly. “Plus, I suppose there won’t ever really be a perfect time.”

“Hotch– Aaron, whatever it is, I’m here for you.” She wouldn’t have made that statement even a month ago, but so much had changed since then. He was still her boss, but Aaron was also her partner, even if neither of the traditional senses really applied. 

Hotch seemed to struggle with the words for a moment, opening and closing his mouth before speaking.

“I’m transgender.” he said, then continued without pause, as if stopping would rend him of all the courage he had just gathered. “It’s just... I’m wearing a binder.”

Emily clamped down on her initial reaction of surprise, knowing how much she hated it when others reacted that way. Instead, she stayed focused on figuring out his condition, assessing the situation with this new information.

“Okay,” she said, infusing the word with as much love and care as possible. “Can I help you get it off?” 

He nodded and turned his back towards her, shoulders relaxing minutely. Gently, Emily grasped the hem of his shirt and pulled first shirt and then binder over his head. Aaron hissed as the binder peeled off of his body, revealing skin underneath that was just beginning to mottle. In a few hours, the bruises would all be blue and purple.

“Jesus, Aaron.” It was an unpleasant sight, though Emily was glad that it seemed to be the only damage.

“It feels better now,” he assured her. “The pressure was the worst part.”

Nonetheless, Emily monitored him carefully as she helped him up and into their bedroom. After Aaron had settled himself in bed, dressed in the same GW Law sweatshirt he had been wearing that first night, Emily finally let her questions spill out.

“How did this happen?” She kept her tone as free of concern as possible, though she couldn’t entirely erase the traces of worry. As far as she knew, Aaron wasn’t prone to fainting, so something was clearly up.

“This morning I woke up and I couldn’t bring myself to eat anything, not when we still hadn’t solved the case,” he explained. Emily mentally kicked herself for not noticing that Hotch hadn’t joined them at breakfast. 

“And then we found her and I thought the feeling would fade. But I couldn’t stop thinking about how much she looked like Carrie.”

“You should have told me.” Emily knew it was hypocritical to ask that Hotch open up to her when she was terrible at communication herself, but she hated knowing that Aaron thought he had no one to lean on. 

He continued on as if she hadn’t interjected. “I’m no doctor, but I would guess that the combination of anxiety and not eating led to the fainting.”

Emily nodded, ready to accept the explanation, but Hotch wasn’t finished.

“Plus, I may have been wearing my binder for longer than is strictly advisable,” he admitted in a rush, not meeting her eyes.

And with that, he brought the conversation around to the topic the two of them had been studiously avoiding. It wasn’t that Emily didn’t want to talk about it, but rather that she didn’t know how. She had never planned on this moment. But then again, she had never expected to find the family that was the BAU.

Still, the Bureau wasn’t exactly a good place to be gay, let alone transgender. JJ was the only person she had come out to, and even then Emily had known that it could spell the end of her time at the BAU. Aaron had put his faith in her, and Emily could picture all too well the terror that must have accompanied the decision.

She wanted to return that confidence, she realized. Even as they had grown closer, Emily had been guarding herself, unsure of how he would react. But she was finally ready to be vulnerable.

“Aaron, I have something to tell you as well.” He looked at her quizzically, and Emily forced herself to meet his eyes. “I’m a lesbian.”

“What?” Emily felt a flash of hurt that he hadn’t hidden his surprise, but that feeling was quickly replaced by doubt.

“Weren’t we sharing secrets?” She tried to keep her tone lighthearted, but her bravado had faded, replaced by a quaver in her voice.

“Oh-- yes. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

Emily’s first instinct was to press, to ask why he had been so surprised. Her determination was what had gotten her this far in life, her belief in never giving up. But she also felt, now more than ever, that they had time ahead of them. Her questions could wait for another day.

“I’m going to go check on Carrie and Jack,” she told him instead, leaning down and pressing an impulsive kiss to his forehead.

As Emily descended the stairs, she heard soft voices coming from the living room. When she entered, Jack was playing with the stuffed jaguar that Emily had seen Carrie pack not so many weeks ago, zooming it through the air and chattering softly to himself. Carrie was sitting on the floor with him, smiling weakly, but her facade shattered the moment she saw Emily.

She began sobbing, hiccuping as she stood up and held out her arms. Emily strode forward and wrapped Carrie in a tight hug. She could feel Carrie shaking as she sniffled against Emily’s shoulder.

“He’s going to be alright?” Carrie asked, then hid her face in Emily’s hair as if she couldn’t bear to know the answer. 

“Yes,” Emily whispered, rocking them back and forth. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I was so scared. I saw him on the ground and he looked like… he looked like…” Her sobs overtook her, and Emily pulled her closer, taking deep lungfuls of air until she heard Carrie’s breathing begin to match hers. 

Jack toddled over to where they were standing, tugging at Emily’s shorts until she broke away from Carrie. He motioned upward and she obliged, scooping him into her arms. 

“Why are you sad?” he asked, looking at Emily and Carrie in turn. Emily hesitated. In the grand scheme of things, what had happened to Aaron wasn’t significant at all, but Jack’s world was still so small.

“We were just a little scared, buddy,” Emily said, bouncing him lightly. With a watery smile, Carrie leaned over and touched his nose, provoking a giggle.

“Where’s my dad?” 

“He’s upstairs,” Carrie said, only sniffling a little. “I’m going to go see him. Do you want to come with me?”

Left on her own, Emily’s mind wandered to thoughts of Carrie. In so many ways, she reminded Emily of herself. She was smart and stubborn, had seen too much and knew it. But Emily was determined that Carrie would have the support Emily had craved, the kind she had gotten from Matthew and John but never from her own mother. 

Eventually, Carrie returned without Jack, coming to stand in silence next to Emily. She was toying idly with the jaguar, eyes fixed on it instead of looking up.

“Danny was so still,” she said after a while, and Emily nodded, though it wasn’t really a statement that required affirmation. 

“You know, sometimes I wonder why I got a second chance and he didn’t,” Carrie continued, voice rising and words beginning to pick up speed. “ I wasn’t the good child. The last real conversation I had with my parents was an argument. When I walked into that bathroom, I thought maybe God had realized his mistake and was going to take this away from me as well.”

“No,” Emily said firmly. “I don’t believe in fate, but I do believe that you’re not a bad person for being the one who lived. You might always believe that Danny should’ve survived, but the best thing you can do now is live for him.”

Carrie nodded slowly. “I can do that, I think.”

Emily smiled. Once again, she felt acutely that there was no need to rush. There would be time for questions and revelations. There would be time to make mistakes and get things right. There would be time enough for them to heal.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A test and a celebration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just the epilogue after this!

The state of Virginia gave them two day’s notice for the first home visit. Emily cleaned the house from top to bottom the day before, not wanting a single thing to seem out of place. Aaron caught her in the hallway, making sure all the picture frames were hung perfectly straight.

“Emily, we live here.” She stopped fiddling with the frame long enough to look at him. His expression was mostly one of concern, though she could see the occasional flash of amusement.

“I know.” She also knew what he was implying, but the Elizabeth Prentiss-like voice in her head was strong. He was going to have to say it outright.

Aaron, as always, delivered. “They’re not going to expect the house to be perfect.”  _ But my mother always does _ , she didn’t say. Truthfully, she didn’t think she had to. 

He sat down on a stair, motioning her to join. Emily obliged, leaning absentmindedly towards him once she was settled.

“What’s important to them is that Carrie is healthy and happy. And trust me—“ he said, looking meaningfully in the direction of Carrie’s bedroom. “If she weren’t, she would tell us.”

And wasn’t that the truth. Carrie’s frankness was one of the things that Emily loved most about her. Emily had always been like that, except that only a few had ever cared about what she had to say.

“Okay?” Aaron asked, letting his hand drift over to rest lightly on hers. Emily took a deep breath, silencing the thought that they would be judged for anything less than perfection. The social worker wasn't her mother, and neither, for that matter, was Emily. She had to stop trying to live up to impossible standards.

“Okay.”

Jack came up to the two of them, then, asking for someone to admire his Play-doh creations. Aaron agreed, standing up and glancing at Emily over his shoulder as he was led away, Jack’s small hand clasped in his. Emily sat on the steps for a moment longer, caught in the memories of every time her mother had deemed her lacking. When she rose, it was with the determination that it would never happen again.

(If she caught Aaron meticulously fluffing the couch cushions some hours later, she didn’t say anything.)

~

The social worker’s name was Meghan. She was young, mid-twenties, with honey colored hair and a periwinkle scarf that matched her winter coat. She sat in Emily’s favorite armchair, clutching a mug of tea. Emily had laid out cookies as well, though nobody but Jack had touched them. She might have let go of perfection, but that didn’t erase the need to be polite.

“Can I show you around?” Aaron asked, breaking the silence. Emily knew the whole visit was a formality unless Meghan found something damning, but she couldn’t stop herself from worrying. The smallest thing could give them away, and the state would not be as forgiving as Carrie had been.

“I'll do it,” she found herself saying. She flashed her winningest smile as both Aaron and Meghan turned to look at her. “You stay here and look after Jack and Carrie, honey.”

Aaron’s eyes crinkled slightly at the pet name, which was practically a full-on laugh from him. She smiled openly at him, standing up from the couch and motioning Meghan out of the room with her.

Meghan paused on the stairs, looking at the photos Emily and Aaron had hung there one Sunday. Emily was suddenly painfully aware of the lack of family photos. There were plenty of Jack, of course, and Carrie had allowed some of the photos from her scrapbook to be framed, showing her progression from giggly child to sullen teenager. There was even a photo of Haley holding a baby Jack, but none of the four of them together.

As much as she wanted to offer some excuse about busy schedules and photo-shyness, Emily forced herself to stay quiet. It was the kind of detail a non-profiler wouldn’t necessarily notice, and bringing attention to it might even raise suspicion.

Indeed, Meghan simply resumed climbing the stairs, allowing Emily to take the lead as they toured the second floor. 

“When did you and Aaron meet?” she asked as they exited Carrie's bedroom.

“Aaron and I work together… well, he’s my boss technically,” Emily amended, watching Meghan’s face carefully for any signs that this would count as improper behavior. Seeing none, she went on. We didn’t get along at first, but once we sorted that out the rest was history.”

In reality, Emily wouldn’t describe their problems as history. The two of them were still working on their relationship every day, but that only made it stronger.

As Emily led her around the house, Meghan kept up a steady stream of questions, mostly about Carrie and how she was adjusting. Emily responded as succinctly as possible, though she couldn’t keep the emotion from her voice when describing how they truly had become a family. Eventually, they ended up back in the living room, Emily’s heart melting at the sight of Carrie and Aaron playing with Jack on the floor.

Meghan sat back down in the armchair, refusing Aaron’s offer to bring her another cup of tea. They chatted for a little while longer, Emily suppressing a smile every time Aaron’s answers to Meghan’s questions lined up exactly with hers. Who would have imagined that Emily Prentiss and Aaron Hotchner would one day have a bond like this? Not Emily, that was for sure.

For once, Emily felt secure. They would pass this test, not because they had cheated, but because they really were the best place for Carrie to be. She let herself tune out of the conversation, mind wandering until Meghan leaned slightly out of the chair and said something that snapped her back to reality.

“I hate to ask, but where are your wedding rings?” Shit. Perhaps she was more observant than Emily had given her credit for.

Aaron stepped in before Emily, mind racing, could come up with an explanation. “We’re both federal agents who deal with highly dangerous criminals. Wedding rings would make us an immediate target.” Like any good lie, it was grounded in the truth. Though he had worn a ring when he and Haley were married, it was quite another thing to be married to another agent. A canny unsub who figured out their relationship could put the whole team in jeopardy.

Meghan nodded sympathetically, though Emily wasn’t sure she was totally convinced. “That must be difficult, having to hide your relationship.” 

Emily found her voice: “We have Jack and Carrie and each other, and that’s what really matters.”

It was terribly sappy, but also the truth. 

If she didn’t believe them, Meghan was smart enough not to say anything, simply nodding before moving to the next topic. “I just need to speak to Carrie alone in the hallway, and then we’ll be finished!” she chirped, and the two of them exited the room, Carrie holding the door on the way out. 

The moment they were gone, Emily turned to Aaron. No wedding pictures and no rings. If one slipup was dangerous, two seemed to guarantee failure. Still, Meghan was looking for abuse, not marital fraud. They could still pull this off. They just needed to take the final step.

In an almost laughably perfect demonstration of their connection, Aaron, without prompting, voiced her thoughts exactly: “We need to get married.”

~

The wedding day dawned bright and cold, a light dusting of snow covering the ground. For once, Emily was the first one awake, though she was content to lie in bed, Aaron’s solid warmth next to her. When he began to stir, opening and closing his bleary eyes, she slipped out from the under the covers, heading for the kitchen.

Carrie was already there, eating cereal and reading the Sunday comics. Emily bustled around the kitchen, making conversation and coffee and trying to ignore the small knot in her stomach. Getting married was just a formality, a legal recognition of what they already had.

Coffee ready, Emily poured mugs for her and Aaron and sat down at the kitchen table across from Carrie, taking slow sips while she waited for it to cool. Eventually, Aaron and Jack joined them, and the four of them sat together, enjoying the silence before splitting up to get dressed.

Emily had already picked out her outfit, pulling an unworn sky-blue dress from deep within her closet. She thought wearing white might have been a little too on the nose with regards to the sanctity of their marriage. Aaron, in contrast, was wearing a tuxedo that Emily strongly suspected was the same one he had worn to his first wedding. 

Jack and Carrie were dressed in complementary outfits they had bought on a recent trip to the mall, the navy blue polka dots of Jack’s socks and bow tie matching the pattern of Carrie’s dress. 

“Do a spin?” Emily asked when they had reassembled in the living room, and Carrie obliged, her skirt flaring out as she laughed.

JJ met them at the courthouse doors, passing a wrapped present over to Emily before she could protest. Though they didn’t technically need a witness, JJ had been invited nonetheless. She was still the only one who knew the true circumstances of their situation, though Emily supposed it was only a matter of time before someone else (probably Penelope) figured it out. 

Even if the team had known, Emily wasn’t sure she would have wanted to invite the entire team. They were family, more than her own had ever been, but it would inevitably transform the wedding into an event of epic proportions. Neither her nor Aaron were much for parties; the current plan was to be in and out as fast as possible, hopefully early enough to have lunch somewhere in Arlington.

When their names were called, they entered a small courtroom. JJ and Carrie and Jack sat down on the first row of benches as Emily and Aaron approached the magistrate. Emily reached out and wrapped her hand lightly around Aaron’s. His answering squeeze grounded her, a reminder of why they were there. 

The magistrate began speaking. “Ladies... and gentleman,” he said, inclining his head towards Jack, “we are gathered here today to witness the joining of Emily Elizabeth Prentiss and Aaron Arthur Hotchner in the bonds of matrimony.”

_ Arthur as in ‘Arthur Sullivan of Gilbert and Sullivan’, _ he had admitted when she’d asked while filling out the wedding forms.  _ Haley and I picked it out when I changed my name after college. _

_ Elizabeth as in _ ‘ _ I carry the weight of my mother with me wherever I go,’  _ she had responded, only half joking.

“Marriage is a matter that should not be entered into lightly,” the magistrate continued, looking at each of them in turn. “I trust the two of you have thought about what marriage means to you, and that you stand now, ready to offer a life-long commitment based on love, trust and respect.” 

Emily glanced back. Jack was focused on swinging his legs against the bench, but Carrie met her gaze and smiled softly. Emily returned the smile. She knew for the first time in her life what commitment really meant to her, the promise to be there for the good days and the bad.

“I would ask you to please join hands, but I can see that you’ve jumped the gun a little with that one.” He chuckled slightly at his own joke, pausing briefly before beginning again. “Do you, Emily, take Aaron to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?”

As he spoke, Emily saw first Hotch and then Aaron in her mind’s eye. She saw the man who rarely cracked a smile and the one who would do anything for Jack and Carrie. The one who would never admit to weakness, and the one she had found passed out on the bathroom floor. They seemed to have nothing in common, and yet they both cared so deeply, so selflessly, even to the point where it began to hurt them. Even when she was in the wrong, he cared, expecting nothing in return except a promise to try and do better next time.

When Emily said “I do,” it was a vow to Aaron Hotchner, the sum of all his parts and nothing less. 

The magistrate repeated the vows, looking expectantly at Aaron when he finished. Emily had a brief vision of Aaron refusing to say the words, deciding that he was finished, that enough was enough, but she pushed it away almost as soon as it appeared. He had earned her trust, proven time and time again that he would be there.

“I do,” Aaron said, turning to look at her with that signature Hotch intensity, the sternness all but replaced with warmth.

“The rings?” 

Aaron produced the velvet box from his jacket pocket, opening it to retrieve the rings. They were a matching set, plain silver bands that they had picked out together. No rings in the field, of course, but Emily had wanted one nonetheless, something to remind her of their partnership even while separated. Aaron had agreed, and though Emily had watched him carefully for signs that he was simply conceding to make her happy, she had found none. 

The bands were inscribed, the one sentimentality they had settled for. As well as being a fitting quote, it also came from one of Emily’s favorite movies, one she had watched over and over. Almost cloyingly sentimental, it still never failed to move her deeply to hear the words come out of Robin Williams’s mouth: “But if there's love, dear... those are the ties that bind, and you'll have a family in your heart, forever.”

_ a family in your heart, forever _ . That was the etching on the rings, and those were words Emily hoped would always ring true.

Aaron slipped the ring on her finger. It was cool against her skin, the feel of it making her unexpectedly emotional. Blinking away tears, Emily slid his ring on in turn, looking down briefly at his hands before returning her gaze to his face.

“With this ring I marry you and pledge my love, honor and devotion,” the magistrate prompted. They repeated the words dutifully, knowing that all those things had been promised long before this ceremony.

“By the authority vested in me by the laws of the State of Virginia, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” Once upon a time, Emily would have recoiled, but she let Aaron pull her close, knowing he wouldn’t do anything she wasn’t comfortable with. Sure enough, he simply pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek.

“You did it,” he whispered. Emily leaned back so she could see his face fully, his smile filling her with warmth.

“We did it,” she said. This time, she didn’t try to hide her tears.

JJ snapped a picture of them on the courthouse steps. Emily held Jack in her arms, letting him pull at her dress, while Aaron stood next to her, arm around a beaming Carrie. The snow began to fall again as they stood there, a picture-perfect wonder.

Years later, Emily was trying to find a file that she was sure had been on JJ’s desk when her elbow caught one of the framed family photos. When she propped it back up, Emily realized it was the wedding photo, tucked in between a picture of Henry on his first day of school and a photo the whole team had taken on Halloween. She was touched by the fact that JJ thought it had been a moment worth remembering in and of itself; Emily had always loved the photo because she knew what it had taken to get there.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two years later; a perfect summer evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when I started this fic in march, I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into. eight months and 50(!) pages later, here we are, and it has been such a pleasure to get to tell this story. thank you so much to everyone who has given tattb a chance. i’m endlessly grateful for your kudos and comments.
> 
> this final chapter is lovingly dedicated to my sibling for beta-ing, to andy for being there since day 1, and to el for always hyping up this fic and me in general <3

The string lights Emily had hung made the backyard look like something out of a fairytale. The guests mingled together, drinking homemade punch and eating food from the grill Aaron was carefully tending. 

It was a warm evening in August, a few days before Carrie’s eighteenth birthday. The air was humid and the occasional mosquito buzzed around the edges of the party. From the kitchen window, Emily could see Penelope and Spencer swaying slightly to the music while JJ and Morgan fought over a football that had appeared seemingly out of thin air. Rossi sat in a deck chair, watching the proceedings with an amused look on his face, while Will sat beside him, cradling Henry in his arms. Even Jordan was here, making conversation with Aaron as he slid burgers into buns.

True to Emily’s prediction, Penelope had been the first to figure them out. She swore she’d never tell how she connected the dots, but Emily suspected that Penelope regularly checked in on all of them in less than legal ways. Once Penelope knew, their cover was all but blown, so Hotch had convened an all-team meeting to break the news.

He and Emily had told them the story straight, so to speak. The team understood that they weren’t really in love, but neither Emily nor Aaron felt that coming out was necessary for the story. Emily had come out the next year anyway, telling everyone as they sat around a crowded booth in the same bar where she had first told JJ. Aaron, for his part, he had reassured Emily that he was content with just being out to her.

Two years later, Emily thought that they were doing pretty well. Not every day was easy, of course. Sometimes Aaron snapped and Emily swore and Carrie sulked and Jack sobbed, but those days were few and far between. More often, there were sad days, because nothing would ever really heal what had happened to Carrie. On sad days Emily or Aaron begged off work, watching terrible movies with Carrie until she had cried herself out.

Every year, the three of them flew out to Denver to visit Carrie’s family. The old lady who ran the florist nearest to the cemetery knew when to expect them by now, and Emily’s perfunctory refusal to accept the flowers she insisted on providing free of charge had become something of a routine. Carrie liked to visit the cemetery alone, and she often sat there for hours, seemingly lost in thought. After she was finished, she and Emily and Aaron would go visit her old friends, the ones who had turned up for her when she had expected to be most alone.

There was always a little part of Emily that was scared Carrie would leave them. She would decide that Denver was still her real home, or that she wanted to live closer to her aunt and uncle in Phoenix. Emily had long since promised herself that she would support Carrie in whatever she wanted to do, but that wouldn’t lessen the sting. Nothing like that had ever come to pass, but in less than a month, Carrie would be heading off to college. 

Emily knew that Carrie’s parents had emphasized the importance of college, and that she had been fighting with them about it the night they had died. When she first came to live with them, Carrie had wanted to re-join all the activities her parents had encouraged. It had taken time and a lot of therapy, but eventually she had realized that straying from her parent’s wishes wasn’t a betrayal, not when what they had wanted most was for her and Danny to be happy. 

When the time came for Carrie to apply to college, Emily and Aaron made sure she understood that they would be proud of her no matter where she went. In the end, Carrie had chosen the University of Virginia, promising to make the two-hour journey home often. Still, it would be strange to not have her around every day. Emily had gotten used to her snark and sincerity, the way she cut right to the truth every time.

Tonight, Carrie was standing in a corner, Haley by her side, both of them watching over Jack. Emily and Haley would never be the best of friends, but they had long since formed a truce, recognizing that they both wanted the best for their strange little family. Haley loved Jack, that much was obvious, and she treated Carrie like the big sister Jack had never had. She was happy to take them both when cases ran long, though Emily secretly suspected that was because Carrie was able to calm down Jack better than anyone.

Leaving the house, Emily made her way over to the snack table, setting down the bowl of pretzels she had been carrying. When she looked up, Haley was motioning her over, gesturing at her empty cup and then Jack in turn. As Emily reached their corner of the yard, Haley headed off to refill her drink, leaving Emily and Carrie to monitor Jack.

Without warning, Emily was overcome by a wave of emotion. This life still felt like a dream sometimes. Past Emily would never have believed that this was where her life would end up. After Italy, she had been so angry, and after Declan, so resigned. In her lowest moments, she had told herself that she would never deserve a family. Emily knew now that she had been wrong, that she deserved to love and be loved. She also knew how exceptionally lucky she was to have found this family.

“I love you, you know that?” Emily said, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the party. If she looked at Carrie, there was a good chance she would cry. If anything could ruin the joyful mood of this evening, that would be it, even if the tears came only from a place of happiness.

“I know,” Carrie said, no trace of sarcasm in her voice. She took a slow sip out of the cup in her hand. In her periphery, Emily saw a single tear fall down Carrie’s cheek. “I know.”

When Haley came back, new drink in hand, neither Emily nor Carrie had looked at each other. She gave them a strange look before striking up a conversation with Carrie about what she wanted to study in college.

Emily bid them adieu and headed towards Aaron, the adoption papers burning a hole in her back pocket. They had applied for them months ago, but the envelope had only arrived a few days ago. Emily had snatched the letter from the mail as soon as it arrived, hiding it among her paperwork. The plan was to give them to Carrie on her birthday and let her make a decision about what she wanted. 

Unlike the thought of Carrie leaving, this decision didn’t feel Emily with dread. No matter what she chose, Carrie would always have them to come home to. 

She reached Aaron as he was finishing up making dinner, flipping the last of the burgers and sliding them into perfectly toasted buns. At his call, the guests flocked to the table, Spencer and Penelope almost tripping over each other in their haste to get food. After grabbing a plate, they dispersed once more, leaving only Emily and Aaron by the grill. 

A few months ago, JJ had asked Emily if she and Aaron would stay married after Carrie turned eighteen. Until JJ had asked, Emily hadn’t considered the possibility they wouldn’t, which she supposed was answer enough. That thought process would have been unthinkable two years ago, when begrudging respect was the only thing keeping them together.

They stood next to each other as they ate, watching the future they had built together. The lines around Aaron’s eyes were softer now than they had been two years ago, and he smiled more, though he was still tough-as-nails Hotch when he needed to be. At the end of a long day, or a tough case, the thing Emily looked forward to most was his companionship. He would sit with her at the kitchen table, or rope Carrie and Jack into a game of pictionary, somehow always anticipating what she needed. When she woke up thrashing, he was there, and when he couldn’t sleep, she sat up with him until his breathing evened.

Emily finished eating, setting her plate on the table behind her and wiping her hands on a paper napkin. Aaron mimicked her, then refilled his cup from the nearby punchbowl.

As he turned to her, Emily raised her own cup, bumping it against Aaron’s before taking a drink, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “So,” she said. “How about that divorce?”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @ellegreenawy!


End file.
